


This time of night

by QueenBoo



Series: Tumblr Prompts! [6]
Category: The Mighty Boosh RPF
Genre: Angsty tour times, Drabble, M/M, Tumblr Prompt, lovely softness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-16
Updated: 2021-01-16
Packaged: 2021-03-14 18:09:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28799616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenBoo/pseuds/QueenBoo
Summary: One sentence prompt - "What are you doing here at this time of night?", Noel can't sleep, Julian suffers the gentle consequences.
Relationships: Julian Barratt/Noel Fielding
Series: Tumblr Prompts! [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2111445
Comments: 7
Kudos: 9





	This time of night

**Author's Note:**

> Another lovely tumblr prompt from the fabulous @kateyboosh, "what are you doing here at this time of night?".   
> [Original Post](https://anciientboosh.tumblr.com/post/623846038701260800/henlo-if-youre-still-bored-and-traveling-does)

There were a lot of ways tonight could have ended, but this wasn’t the one Noel had envisioned when he’d rolled out of his bunk that morning. 

Not that his life thus far had been much of an exercise in following a plan. 

Arranging and executing actions in an orderly fashion was not where the fun in life lay– no that was all in the impulse of a thing.

It certainly had not been intended for him to imprint on a lanky northern stand-up comic all those years back. Nor to go on to build his life like a shrine around said comic. But lo and behold, his gut acted long before his head could and while he wouldn’t change any of it for the world… It made his point pretty well. 

Planning was not his _shtick_. 

Which is exactly why he finds himself outside of Julian’s hotel room at 2 am, half-cut and bumping his fist against the wood _just_ loud enough to be heard. 

The tabloids were having a field day about him already, he did not need _The Sun_ deciding he was having another breakdown. Not in the middle of a tour. What he needed was a familiar body and a warm bed and a decent fucking nights sleep. 

It doesn’t take him long to answer, which typically signals that for whatever reason Julian was still awake too, but when the door is creaked open it’s to reveal a bare-chested and sleep, rumpled man. The kind of soft squint to his features indicative of being woken up. 

As much as he feels guilty about it– this far into a tour Julian’s sleep is as elusive as Noel’s sobriety– it forces a grin onto his features. 

“You’re back early.” The larger man sighs. He steps aside willingly, allowing Noel to slip past him and into the dark room. 

“Turned ‘round and you were gone.” Julian’s bed is still warm, Noel drops to sit on it without waiting to be offered a seat. Julian is much too busy trying to tuck unsightly clues to his mental state away to where prying eyes won’t see them. 

Too late for that, though. Noel could have strut in upside down and blindfolded he’d still point out all the things his other half had been up to since sneaking away from the after-party. The butts of cigarettes he was supposed to have given up and the torn pages of frustrated notes about which jokes aren’t landing and what dialogue needed tightening. 

Trust Julian to be ninety shows into a one-hundred date tour and still be finding things that aren’t perfect. 

“What are you doing in here at this time of night, Noel?“ Julian asks as he tidies. At least he doesn’t sound annoyed, he never does when this happens. Just resigned. Complicit in the fact that no matter what they do, no matter how old they get _, this_ would always be a part of who they were. 

No matter how often they swore not to let it control them, they both knew better. It wasn’t theirs to control anymore; not really. It lived and it breathed and it _longed_. 

“I’m tired,” Noel says simply. 

“You have a room, don’t you?” Julian’s travel bag is kicked out of the way so his large frame can crouch before Noel’s smaller one and tug at his boots. 

As ever, the man exists in a state of contradiction. He leaps between the extremes, jaunts merrily about in the realm of mystery and he _knows it._ Mr Barratt, his mouth will tell you to go but his eyes… His eyes beg you to stay. 

Those eyes are looking at him now, sleep soft and yet alert. Crinkled at the edges with humour and each blink a slow deliberate drag. There’s nothing intense about this look, but it pins Noel in place all the same as his first boot slides free. "Why are you stumbling to my door and monopolising my bed space?" 

“You know I don’ sleep well alone,” Noel whispers, providing the answer Julian was looking for. He gets a small quirk of his lip in return. “Bed’s too big.” 

Boots off and tossed aside, Julian’s practised fingers reach up to rid him of his jacket. Noel’s unresponsive limbs move like a rope through tar trying to help; Julian shushes away any distress. The man is reaching to peel Noel’s shirt over his head when a thought occurs, "How come you left without sayin’ goodbye?” Noel asks. “Time was you always told me when you were leavin’." 

“Time was you’d notice when I wasn’t there.”

He doesn’t look up as he says it, much too occupied peeling tight jeans from Noel’s legs. But Noel doesn’t have to see him to know how his features are pinched; an expression that is wiped clean by the time Julian stands and urges him towards the head of the bed. 

Noel slips under soft sheets like an integral piece coming to rest in its intended place. The world rights itself on its axis once more. Everything slows to a low hum. Julian doesn’t join him right away, but that’s fine. The familiar sounds of running water and a glass landing softly on the table beside the bed is enough indication that he will be with him soon. 

And when he does reclaim his place in the bed, Noel is at his side in an instant. Wiry arms wrapping about his waist and nose pressed against the underside of his jaw. Julian smells like sweat and cologne and stale beer but it's _good_ ; behind his closed eyelids Noel sees shooting stars and multicoloured fireworks– undercut with a grounding sense of home. 

It’s comfortable. It’s perfect. 

It won’t last forever. This equilibrium they find together while existing in a world purely of their own creation. The way they know each other better than any script they could write; understand one another like a first language. The way their biological rhythms blend like the melodies of their own songs. 

_It won’t last forever_.

Eventually, the space Julian carved for himself in the hollow of Noel’s chest will once more be vacant. It will remain so, no matter how hard he tries to fill it because everyone else who gets in can never seem to take up space the same way this man does. Once in a while, Julian will return for a short visit to his home away from home– slotting into place comfortably– and everything will seem okay until it's not. 

Right now, though, it will last. 

Ten more shows to make it last.

Noel sleeps. 

**Author's Note:**

> Have a prompt, a question, or just want to say hi? Come and find me on tumblr:  
> @queen-boo / @anciientboosh


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